Married To My Billionaire Nemesis Novels & Stories

He was insinuating what had gotten me here in the first place and although I was disgusted by this pregnancy, I could use some much needed attention. I silently get up and head to the bedroom. I hear him follow behind me and shut the door. At least there was one thing that occupied me. After my hatred-filled entanglement, I tell Francisco to take me to a nail salon. Once we arrive, I sit down and wait for my services when I see the news playing in a screen just up the wall across from me. ‘Social Articles report that a young billionaire is no longer back on the market. The business mogul has rekindled with his wife who was seen sporting the same rings gifted to her for their wedding just 6 y

I can’t even cry, the tears stay trapped, burning behind my eyes, refusing to fall and what finally pulls me back is Anastasia’s voice. She’s talking now, excited, animated going on about what it feels like to be married to the biggest and youngest billionaire in the world. Her voice grates against my ears and every word feels like a jab. A reminder and mockery, that’s when I’ve had enough, I grab the remote and turn off the TV abruptly, the room plunging back into silence. The silence is heavy but it’s better than having to endure that and I lean back in my chair, staring at nothing.

They whispered when they thought I couldn’t hear, their voices sharp as the clinking espresso spoons. “She only got this job because of him.” “Blackwell’s wife doesn’t need to be working here.” “She’ll quit in a week—watch.” I pretended it didn’t sting, but I heard every word. And they weren’t wrong. I was Dominic Blackwell’s wife, and my life wasn’t normal. But what they didn’t know was that I needed this. I needed to feel like I was still Brooklyn Carson, not just some billionaire’s arm candy.

One of the men present was my lawyer, he has the legal papers,and I guess the other man was the bride's relative. I am Wilfred Donaldson,the said broke Billionaire who is at the verge of bankruptcy. I am getting married to save the face of my company. I don't need to be told, but I knew I always have this cold look which has kept people away from me. I looked down at my watch, the time was past 8, yet the bride wasn't here. Could she be the type to always look lavish and dolled up? As dangerous thoughts crossed my mind, the door was pushed open. There was no need for me to take a glance before I knew she had arrived.

"I don't like it when you act too proud." "And I don't like it when you pretend you don’t want me, so we’re even." He shut up with his reply. "I honestly don't want you. I wasn't pretending." I managed to say. His chuckle sent tingles up my spine. Then he sat back in his seat, smoothed his hands over his hair, and chuckled again, as if he was enjoying some delicious secret. I leaned back as well, finally thinking about today. I just married a billionaire, which makes me a billionaire too.

The smell of coffee and the smell of roasted chicken mixed with the anxiety rising in my chest. I stood there, questioning myself. “Why me?” I muttered. “Why would a billionaire, one of the coldest and most ruthless men in the city choose my hand in a contract marriage? I wish I had a better option than this one.” Unable to bear the thoughts alone, my voice slipped out getting louder, quiet yet loud enough for me to hear. “A contract marriage.” I had seen it in movies and read about it in novels, but I never imagined I would be trapped in such a situation.

"What if it's just adrenaline? Trauma bonding? Stockholm syndrome?" "Then we'll figure that out together. In eleven months or eleven years or however long it takes." He tilted her face up to his. "Elena Castellano Ashford—yes, that's legally your name now—will you stay married to me? Not because of a will or money or threats, but because you want to?" Elena thought about it. Really thought about it. Six weeks ago, she was a broke art teacher in Vermont. Now she was married to a billionaire, had survived multiple assassination attempts, shot someone, and somehow fallen completely in love with a man who'd started by threatening her mother.

My husband is a billionaire. I’m not saying this to brag about how luxurious my daily life is. I just have one question—do all billionaires cheat? Like right now, his head is buried against the 36D breasts of a young woman sitting on his lap. From where I stand, the two of them look like some kind of ultra–postmodern sculpture titled Interrupted Sex. Before his hand could pull that blonde’s dress all the way up to her chest, I pushed open the door. Enough. I’m not some voyeur into multi-partner arrangements—especially not when the man in the scene is my own husband.

The name echoed in my mind like a curse. Everyone knew him. The youngest billionaire CEO in the country. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable. A man who destroyed lives with contracts and smiles that never reached his eyes. A man who didn’t believe in love. And today, he would become my husband. I finally turned to face my mother. She looked smaller than I remembered, older, worn down by guilt and worry. “I’ll do it,” I said quietly. “I just need you to promise me one thing.” “Anything.”

Chapter 1: A Desperate Bargain “I’ll marry you… but only if you save my mother.” Melinda Jason’s voice shook as she stood in the big fancy office. She was looking straight at Stanley Stewart, the powerful billionaire everyone feared. Stanley leaned back in his chair and stared at her with cold eyes. “You’re offering to marry me just like that?” he asked. “What makes you think I would help your mother?” Melinda took a deep breath. “Because I can give you what you want. You need a child, right? An heir. I’ll be your wife and give you that child. Just please… save my mom.”